Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Fatal Indiscretions Episode 3 - by Anjie Harrte

Fatal Indiscretions Episode 3

Episode 2 – recap

Paul, the art instructor, takes the class under the shade of a tree to do some relaxing exercises when the rain comes down. Everyone runs back to the gazebo to seek shelter, but Paul leads Sherry into a small cave formed from bamboo shoots and leaves. In the cave, Paul seduces Sherry and they end up having passionate sex until the rain stops. Sherry goes home and sleeps for hours and awakens to a note from her husband inviting her out to lunch, then her cell rings and it is Paul on the line.

Read more of Episode 2 as the story continues below.

 Episode 3

As I threw my wary legs off the bed, my cell rang and I answered without checking the ID.
“Goodmorning, Mrs. Miles,” his voice; thick and smooth as always, causing me to sit upright in the bed.
“I hope you are not leaving us?” he asked.
“I beg your pardon?” I asked.
“Well after the way you stormed off yesterday, I am wondering if you will be returning.”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure if I was myself, but at the same time I didn’t want to say I wasn’t.
“Why don’t we meet for breakfast and discuss this. I am at the old Dutch Market, see you in ten minutes,” and the phone cut off. I looked at the display trying to find the number to call back but it was registered as unknown. I called the number I had called the first time and a woman answered.  I quickly hung up and sat at the edge of my bed tapping the cell phone on my chin.

The thought of going to see him made me hot again and I moved uncomfortably on the bed. I knew where the market was, even though it wasn’t somewhere I would frequent. It was dilapidated and on a Tuesday there wouldn’t be many stalls there. Having breakfast in a place like that was unbecoming of me. Did they even have a restaurant there?

I got up and looked in the mirror, was I this kind of woman? Was I the kind of married woman to leave her house at 8 in the morning to have breakfast with the man I wanted to fuck over and over again? I quickly moved from in front of the mirror, there was something about that woman in there that judged me. I couldn’t keep staring at her.

I slipped into a hot bath and massaged my entire body; feeling all of its imperfections and wondering what a handsome sexy man like Paul Degannes wanted with someone who was looking years older than she actually was? When I stepped out of the shower, feeling rejuvenated, I called Ryan.

His cell phone went to voicemail and I figured he was in a meeting, so I left a message confirming our dinner date for 8pm.

I went through my closet and was disappointed with everything there. I remembered a nineteen year old girl who used to like to dress in body fitting dresses and miniskirts and I wished she was here now.

I stood in my black lace panties and matching bra and sighed at every piece of clothing. Then I remembered Kathy. Kathy was my husband’s eighteen year old daughter who lived with her mother in Berbice, another town miles away from us. However, she came every now and again to spend time with us; sometimes she spent her summer vacation with me. She and I got along wonderfully; when I met her she was eight and I was nineteen, she looked up to me and I took her everywhere. She welcomed me as her stepmother and we formed a bond like two sisters. Her mother was never comfortable with me, so she never came to live with us beyond the two months of summer. I smiled as I remembered her little knobby nose that sat on her little round face. Kath always kept our house lively.

I walked down the hall to her room and pushed the door. Everything was orange; her favourite colour. She and I had designed this room three years ago with orange blinds and bedspreads, orange desks and lamps. I always kept her room as though she lived with us permanently, that way when she came to stay it was always ready. She had been here just two months ago right after her final exams; awaiting the birth of her baby sister. When things didn’t go as expected and I fell into a black hole, Ryan sent her home. She would’ve had to go anyhow, since she was graduating from High School. Kathy’s graduation was the highlight of my past few months. She asked to go on a cruise around the Caribbean with her friends for the summer, and her father conceded; she deserved some happiness.

I pulled her closet door open and pulled out the first pair of blue jeans I saw. I blushed at the thought of fitting all my curves into it. When I pushed my legs in and pulled it up, it slid up my body smoothly and hugged my hips until the waist rested comfortably on mine. I watched at myself in Kathy’s full length mirror and blushed. I guess anything was possible. I buttoned the top and turned from side to side, admiring how the jeans hugged my thighs and hips and caused my ass to round off nicely at the back. I looked back into her closet; all her tops were vests and tees. I smiled to myself and pulled the door shut. One of my blouses would have to do; it would be sacrilege to force myself into one of her teenager vests or tees.

Twenty minutes later I drove out my garage wearing a blue and black polka dot blouse tucked into the blue jeans, with a pair of flat sandals. I had applied a little light brown lipstick, face powder and some tan blush on my cheeks; with my dark chocolate skin colour I didn’t like wearing too much make up. I had combed my hair up and left a little pony tail at the back. Even though I didn’t look nineteen anymore I felt a little like it and it made me feel embarrassed to be trying to pull the look off.

I drove alongside the little market slowly, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. It wasn’t the sort of place that offered parking. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw him standing beside the fruits’ stall at the far end of the market. He was dressed, as usual, in a pair of track pants but this time he wore a white jersey with the dark blue pants. His hands were tucked into his pockets and that wretched smile adorned his face. I pulled into the opposite side of the road and tried to park as parallel as possible to the sidewalk. I stepped out of the vehicle and rubbed my palms on the front of the jeans. I reached for my shoulder bag and then ran across the road to him. As luck would have it, inches from him, I tripped on the sidewalk and fell into his arms. My eyes met his as I felt the warmness of his breath on my face. He smiled and winked at me, as I jerked my body from his arms and straightened up.

“I am here,” I said nervously.
“I can see that, and looking very hot,” he said watching me up and down.
I looked away and blushed.
“Where in this God forsaken market are we going to have breakfast?” I asked him.

He smiled and took my hand. We were still almost on the public road, so I looked around nervously, knowing it was highly unlikely for someone from this neighbourhood to know me, but still fearing the worse.

As he walked in front of me, I followed him, hand in hand like a child; moving through the empty vendor stalls. Only two fruit vendors were out and their stalls were laden with bananas, apples and grapes from the US, papaws, oranges and pineapples. The scent of the fruits made my stomach churn with hunger as I remembered that I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch the day before. We walked past the fruit vendors and entered the market structure, passing grocery stalls that smelled of rice and flour. Then we passed the clothes section and the smell of new clothes filled the air. Questioning eyes watched us, walking one behind the other. The market was quiet and desolate. Sundays were the busy days for this market; so on a Tuesday two of us counted as plenty walking through it.

When we reached the back of the market there were about three little stalls that smelled of fried cassava and coffee. There were little wooden structures with one person behind a glass case that was sweating from the heat of the food inside. In front of the little structures were wooden stools in front of a narrow shelf. Paul stopped in front of the second stall and directed me to take a seat on one of the stools. A place like this would repulse Ryan and on any other day even I would turn up my nose at it. But today under Paul’s spell, I took a seat.

“What do you have there, Clancy?” Paul asked the man behind the little counter.

“Dhol Puri and chicken curry, egg balls, potato balls, cassava balls, bake and salt fish and bake and fried eggs,” the man said, getting up from a little stool inside the stall and washing his hands at a little sink.

“What would you like to have?” Paul asked me

The menu sounded delicious, I never found the time to make those things these days, it was always pasta or rice or something befitting for our lifestyle. Ryan said curry burnt his stomach and the dhol in the puri didn’t digest well, he didn’t like the fried foods, or the salty fish, but he didn’t have a problem with all the carbs from the pasta, or fat from the greasy cheese.

“An egg ball and a bake and salt fish with coffee,” I said stopping myself from licking my lips as I said it. I was hungry, so one  just wouldn’t do.

“Sure thing,” Clancy said as he took a little plate and started putting out the things on it.

“No fish cake Clancy?” Paul asked

“No my brother, mistress hasn’t brought that as yet,” Clancy answered

“Aww well, I will have the same as the young lady, I had my heart set on dhol puri and fish cake,” Paul said as he rubbed his rock hard belly.

I blushed as he said young lady and looked around at the almost dark area of the market.

Paul must’ve seen me and said, “The food vendors used to be more to the front but the municipality moved them back there, there are more constructions to the back for more vendors,” he pointed behind the little stalls to a row of concrete structures sitting in the dark, “but no one wants to go back there to sell.”

I nodded as he spoke and turned to see Clancy set down the plate with the egg ball; a boiled egg rolled in boiled cassava to form a ball and then deep fried.

“Sour or pepper Miss?” he asked me as I instructed him to put a little of both. He cut the round ball down the middle and squirted mango sour; mango boiled with garlic and pepper and mashed up to make a liquid mixture that was the best accompaniment for an egg ball.

Soon, Paul too had his breakfast as we both enjoyed two cups of steaming hot black coffee.

We talked about the market and the fact that it was fast falling apart due to government concentrating on the big market in the centre of the city and forsaking the little ones like this one.

“Why did you choose here for breakfast?’I asked him as I wiped my mouth with a tissue, feeling the burning sensation of the pepper from the sour.

“Because Clancy here is a good cook,” he said

Clancy smiled from ear to ear and I nodded in agreement with Paul.

“I am not the cook, brother,” Clancy began,“the mistress does do the cooking.”

Paul smiled and paid for the breakfast and got up and stretched.

Suddenly I was nervous again, acting awkward and almost throwing over the stool on which I sat. Paul grabbed it and put it upright.
“I want to show you something,” he said and my eyes grew wide. Part of me was scared of what he was going to show me and part of me was excited.

He walked off towards the side gate of the market and I followed him. We walked out onto a bridge and then on to a little road leading back towards the river. We passed a store selling house fixtures and then went through an iron gate. I could smell the salty air coming from the river and I knew immediately where we were going. We walked down a wharf and were soon standing on a landing overseeing the massive brown water Demerara River, which was eagerly rushing with the tide and glistening under the morning sun. Paul climbed on to a boat, and reached for my hand.

I looked around apprehensively and he smiled and said, “Come on sweetheart, there is nothing to fear.”

I took his hand and our eyes locked on each other’s as he pulled me on to the boat that was wobbling from side to side with the washing waves.

He held my hand and led me across the front of the boat to the right side and then he ducked and entered the deck. I followed him and found myself in a little cabin. The room was neat and clean and smelled of his cologne. There was a little bed to the far end, a sofa on my right, a table with cards packed up neatly on the side, and a little fridge under the table. There was something like a chest in one corner.

“Is this where you live?” I asked him

“This is where I escape life,” he said as he sat on the little sofa. I turned around slowly and took in the little room, the wind blew in and the smell of the salty air and the sound of the water lashing the side of the vessel filled the atmosphere. The reflections of the sun of the water filled the roof of the little cabin.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I said as I turned to leave

I felt his hand on my waist. It wasn’t strong or demanding. It just neatly wrapped itself around my waist as his body drew close. I felt him breathing on my neck and I willed myself to leave.

“I don’t hold you hostage, or force you to do anything you don’t want to, but I must tell you yesterday only opened my appetite for more of you and Mrs. Miles I want you.”

He was rubbing the palm of his hand down the front of my body from my waist to my crotch and I felt my pussy twitch under his touch. Goosebumps were all over my neck from the feel of his warm breath. I tilted my head and closed my eyes as he placed small kisses all over my neck.
Suddenly, his warm breath was no longer on my neck, his arms were no longer around my waist, and the feel of his hard body was no longer against my back.

I turned and saw him undressing. He peeled the jersey off and revealed the most beautiful six pack chest glistening in the heat of the day and rippling as he stretched to the sky to pull off the jersey.

He ran his fingers around the waist of his track pants, loosening it from his waist and letting it drop to the floor revealing his thick muscular thighs on which sat his huge bulge pointing out to me from beneath his briefs. He ran his fingers around the rim of his briefs and pulled them down as his arms flexed and his muscles tightened in them and in his thighs. The long thick shaft shook its head at me, beckoning me as he stood in his beautiful nakedness, the light from the sun’s reflection on the water moving around his body.

Today he had left it to my choice, to run to him or to run from him. I stood, perplexed with the decision, fighting a moral fight within. Wanting to dig my fingers into his hard chest, wanting to climb upon him and ride him so hard that I would feel him within me for weeks, wanting to sweat out all the pain and anger and disappointment I felt inside but at the same time wanting to be the good girl I had been all my life; the devoted daughter, the faithful wife, the loving step mother, the responsible citizen and the caring philanthropist. One of them won that battle that day, one of those women who lived in me fought off the other one and had her way. That one woman is the one that got me here in the first place, it was that woman who won that battle in that boat that day, that made me end up dead among the marshes like a stray animal.

What is Sherry getting herself into? What is she going to choose? And how dangerous is this man or being involved with him? Come back next week to find out.


  1. wow great story I loved all the food talk. What is Casava?

  2. THanks Cathy. Cassava is a root, something like potato, but it is longer. It is starchy. Here in Guyana, we make many things with it.
    Here is a wikipedia link with more information:

  3. very interesting thank you I love learning of other cultures.